to trouble the world

a loyal friend said,
"The world i knew is now dead
and it won't be coming back!
Black bread
is what remains!"

i decided he was not thinking normally,
wearing his lucky charm while acting too formally,
in spite of the civil war re-igniting in Syria.

tears were flooding his eyes!

maybe he understood the terrible lies?

he kept swatting at a persistent ghost
who was offering him a toast
of the finest Iranian wine:

he knew it was made lousy by design.

of course the news could be better,

reading more like a passionate love letter,

but he had a point!  too many factions and leaders to anoint

and each armed group has a consuming anger and a dream,

keeping them awake at night as they scheme

to trouble the world.